The Challenge
by Snarky-Teen
Summary: Meet Chloe, the only successful hybrid. Ever. Meet Derek, the controlling, know-it-all alpha of The Pack, and Chloe just so happens to move into his territory... Chloe Derek. Simon OOC. Tori OOC. (Personal characters included). HAITUS
1. The Beginning or How It Started

**Disclaimer: I don't own DP**

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**Chloe P.O.V**

I fell out of my soft, warm bed and onto the floor with a nice thud for a sound effect. My sheets were twisted this way and that, telling me to stay in bed, and that I should skip my first day of school. Yeah right.

I snorted, then reached out to detangle myself. How a person could do all the turning I must have done for my sheets to be this way, _and_ have perfect hair was beyond me. But I'm extremely grateful for the gift.

Anyways, a good five minutes later, I was bounding down the stairs, on my way to make, or scavenge, the ultimate breakfast. I flung open the pantry door and grabbed bread, a blueberry muffin, and an empty metal water bottle. Putting four pieces of the soon to be toast in our oven while grabbing bacon from the fridge and carefully placing the strips in the microwave simultaneously wasn't a new feat, but I was damn sure proud of myself for doing it. My breakfast cooking time had to have been decreased by at least three minutes. I took a hearty bite out of the muffin and basically commanded the poor microwave to cook for me while I went to go put on real clothes.

Upon reaching my closet, I slowed. What look would I go for this move? Goth, punk, preppy, or...just Chloe? With a firm nod, I grasped some white jeans and a blue and grey striped shirt.

All too soon, the annoying beep of the microwave echoed throughout the lonely house, signalling that the death of a pig will soon be celebrated. Humming a random tune and substituting all the words for bacon, I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen like before. I pulled open the black oven door and cautiously peeled the crunchy carbs from the rack while pulling out one of the many plates in one of the cabinets. Next, I retrieved my oh-so-yummy bacon and put it on the plate as well. I quickly carried my ten slices of meat and four pieces of toast, now loaded with butter, to the table, vowing to get milk or water after I eat.

I bit into my crispy pieces of heavenly pig and practically moaned, such a perfect breakfast for a growing werewolf.

**I agree.**

_**Geez! Give a girl a little warning next time! You scared me half to death.**_

**No I didn't, and when did I give you permission to stop eating bacon?** Said Julie, my wolf. I haven't exactly changed yet (partial changes), but when I was bored one day she told me what she looked like. She said, and I quote, "**A long-legged, beautiful blond wolf with deep blue eyes.**" Let's just say that when my dad came down and saw me, on the floor, busting my guts, he...expects me to go crazy and...snap, I guess is the right word. Think about it, a fourteen-year-old girl randomly starting to die of laughter with no phone, computer, T.V., book, or company (a.k.a. _friends_) in the room. Weird.

I fluttered my eyes lashes a few times, breaking away from my thoughts long enough to notice that I had finished breakfast on autopilot, grabbed a cup of water (it was still in my hand), climbed two flights of stairs, and layed on my bed. My room had four walls, yet to be painted, even though the paint I bought before the move were resting in a haphazard stack by my closet door. My three-droor dresser was a light brown wood, (which would totally clash with my color scheme that I had picked out, so it would have to be stained...or painted, along with the matching bed frame and vanity,) was placed in a convenient spot. The corner. The bed was randomly shoved against a wall, probably in front of the window, and finally my vanity just sitting in the middle of the room. All by its lonesome. Yeah, major work to do this weekend.

Glancing at the clock, and to my shock, I discovered I had ten minutes to:

–get on socks and shoes,

–brush my teeth,

–desperately search for the last of my school supplies from some of the boxes in the living room,

–and, _finally_, set off to go to school.

**You're doomed**.

Julie's lovely comment kick-started my brain into action, sending me scrambling to finish my mental list, after I set down my cup, of course. I sprinted to my dresser, slammed open the top drawer, grabbed a pair of white socks, and shoved them on my feet. Next, I crawled rapidly to the closet a few feet away to scrounge for shoes, (I settled on some grey Vans that matched the grey in my shirt.) Third, I rushed to the bathroom conveniently located across the hall, so I could brush my teeth in a speedy, yet thorough, fashion. Lastly, I snagged my backpack downstairs– who cares about actually being prepared for school? I sure as hell didn't– and walked out the front door.

I passed the white Grecian style pillars with intricate accents that supported a good portion of the second story of the house as I made my way to my mode of transportation. Three words. Harley. Davidson. Motorcycle. The beautiful contraption had a classic look, black and chrome. I snatched an elastic from my front pocket of my jeans to tie up my strawberry blond hair, because Chloe Saunders does not wear a helmet. (Apparently I was allowed because I was in my 'rebel phase'. Thanks Dad.) I swung my leg over and cranked the engine to life via my key, I didn't have one of those old-timey engines or anything, causing my bike to purr. I kicked up the kickstand, made my Harley purr once more, then set off for school.


	2. Threat

**Hey, males and females of the third terrestrial planet, I just wanted to say thanks for the support and sorry for the chapter. I know where I want this story to go, I'm just having a hard time getting there. **

**I don't own DP.**

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**Chloe's P.O.V.**

I shoved through the crowded hallways, aiming towards my locker. I hate school, it might just be because with my senses perfume doesn't smell the best, or maybe it's that stupid bell, (I swear I'm gonna do something to that bell one day,) but school and I just don't mix.

For instance, my last school doesn't exist–at least, not any more. It burned to the ground, officials blamed me, so Dad paid them off and we moved.

Anyways, I was jostled, my feet were stepped on, and I'm pretty sure I broke some guys nose, but the worst part?

I couldn't smell.

I mean, my nose _worked_, I just couldn't smell anything but sweaty, ill-mannered, _humans._

**Back to the wall, don't want to be attacked from the behind.** **Or hugged. I don't want to be hugged either.**

**_Alrighty boss._**

As I did as she said, I collided with the wall I was trying to get to. Suddenly a hand stuck itself in my face, and I took it, expecting to helped up from my ungraceful 'plop' onto the fake tiling. I was, don't worry, I just wasn't expecting what happened next.

"What are _you_ doing here, Rogue?" The male –presumably werewolf– twisted the word 'you' as if it was a rotten, moldy slice of pizza. I looked up to see...chest. I craned my neck further to size up my enemy. His 6'4" height easily dwarfed my meager 5'2". His shoulders were wide, and his was built long and lean, probably making him somewhere from delta to alpha in a pack.

"I said–"

"Moved. Human dad." My sentences were short and clipped, and he tensed, clearly not used to disrespect. I would've looked him in the eye, but I didn't want to fight– yet. I wanted to get to my locker, then to my homeroom.

"How–"

"Dear old Eddie payed my mom a visit. Dead." Julie pushed out a bit, making me say the more sarcastic comment rather than the clipped sentences I wanted to stick with. Surprisingly, after I told him that I was an Edison group experiment, and my mom was dead, he didn't seem to have a thing to say. Which is good for me, so I muttered an apology and took a step forwa–

"Don't you know not to treat an alpha that way?"

"**Shit.**" For the first time, she and I said the same thing, at the same time. Both of us agreed, we're screwed. I bowed my head, human form of apologizing, for a werewolf. "Sorry." Once again my sentence was short and crisp, but I still had my intended goal, "I need to pass. Homeroom in three minutes."

He stepped aside. I felt a rush of relief, no threats, no deaths, no fights. Actually, I was ecstatic, that was a whole lot better than I imagined meeting an alpha wolf would be like. Since I was female, and young, I knew I wouldn't be killed, but that didn't mean they couldn't rough me up a bit.

**×~×~The Challenge~×~×**

I smoothly perched on the edge of my seat, the day having thoroughly exhausted me. I was ready to leave geometry and haul my ass to athletics, the eighth–and last–period of school. At least I would end my day on a good note.

The bell, my savior and grace, rang, freeing me from the hell-ish class. I just about sprinted from my seat, grabbed the homework on the way out, dropping my stuff off in my locker, and then switching directions towards gym.

**Slow down, you're starting to blur.**

I automatically kicked the speed down a notch. "To blur" is a term she taught me which basically means "running to fast for humans." She also taught me "mates," a couple for life. She said that if she looked a werewolf in the eye, she'd feel a connection, (I would too,) if he was our mate.

I passed rows and rows of deep blue lockers before I turned down the hallway I assumed led to the locker room. Right when I thought I was wrong, and anxiousness started to permeate my conciousness, the end of the hallway came and I saw the girls' room. I slipped in, then quickly changed into my uniform.

Chattering girls casually walked out to the gym while I stayed behind. I sat down on a conveniently located bench, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. I needed to see if there any ghosts nearby, so if they popped up I wouldn't be too surprised. My breathing slowed, my body relaxed, and I reached out my feelers, combing through a three mile radius. At least four human bodies, a lot of ghosts–not all human though, so that was good, and many animal corpses. Nothing I couldn't handle, I retracted my body-finders, and snapped open my eyes. I could hear someone right outside the door, and if I didn't hear them until now, it was a werewolf. I inhaled, musk, forest, earth, Derek.

I stood up slowly and carefully before I stalked silently to the door. I yanked it open to the views of a back, definitely not what I expected.

"Excuse me." I said, and he stepped aside. He must have been lost in thought because when he saw me, his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly pulled me back with a hand on my shoulder.

"Why are you here?" He asked a little stupidly, I mean, this is a class, and I was dressed in the class uniform (spandex shorts that came mid-thigh and a semi-tight T-shirt). When I didn't answer his grip tightened, so I said,

"Class."

"My pack is in this class. I haven't told them about you."

This made me angry for some reason. If he didn't tell them, how in the hell was I supposed to not be attacked?

"Give me some info, now, so I can relay it and determine if you're a threat."

I sighed. "Female. Sixteen. Hybrid. Experiment. Am I a threat?"

"Have you met another supernatural?" He paused for a second, visibly thinking over what I told him. "Hybrid?"


	3. Capture

**I don't own DP.**

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**Chloe's P.O.V.**

I slammed my head back onto my pillow and groaned, recalling my first day at the new hell-high, my new living-nightmare. Derek, the know-it-all alpha of 'The Pack', freaked out after I said _hybrid._ He started growling at me, so I growled at him, and that caused what of his pack that was in the class to growl at me, vicious cycle. The coach freaked, and in the oh-so-lovely chaos I escaped to my safe haven.

The two-story white building with Grecian pillars resting on a wrap around porch "wasn't much" compared to my father's standards, but –to me– it was huge. I couldn't begin to compare it to all of the condos I had to live in, in the city, with virtually no nature, it just wouldn't be fair. And to top it all off, it was backed by the woods, my version of perfect scenery, not some metal monster playground for monkey-suited business men.

As I was basically contemplating the meaning of life, a loud _'bong'_ resonated throughout the house. On instinct, (after I jumped about three feet in the air and made my hair stand on end), I bared my teeth at the...door. My head drooped, and my body began to ooze barely contained shame.

**_So much for 'finely honed instincts'._**

**I resent that.**

_**Oh, stuff it.**_

I quickly and quietly walked to the door and swung it open to see...nobody I knew. In fact, it was a middle-aged dude, forty at the least. He looked Korean with his black hair, tan skin tone, and slightly slanted eyes. He was tall and had broad shoulders.

"Hello! I'm Kit," he was bright and cheerful, so much so that it almost gave me a headache, "and it has come to my attention that you are a hy–"

The door slammed in his face with so much force that it rattled the house. I was panicking, thinking the worst, because we moved a lot, I didn't think the Edison Group would find me. I dashed up the stairs to my room in a mad haze. With my super-hearing, I heard a muffled phrase, suspiciously like Hebrew or Latin, right before the door flew off its hinges. Well, at least I knew what he was now, a sorcerer, either of average or regular strength, but I didn't want to find out which.

I crouched down and took the bag I always had packed for these situations, and walked to my window. I wasn't stupid enough to jump down from my second-story window, expecting not to get hurt. I may not be completely human, but I'm not invincible. Slowly, I pushed open the window, and with the grace of a frog, scrambled up to the roof. I pulled the one-strap bag over my shoulder and tightened it. I won't be losing supplies any time soon.

As mentioned earlier, my house was right up against the woods, meaning a lot of tree branches hung over the roof, perfect for climbing and making a getaway.

**Don't get on the ground. Same advantage as the sorcerer that way. Stay in the trees.**

I nodded my consent and walked across the roof. I swung on the tree while formulating a plan in my mind. I would make a big circle, make them think I was leaving, shake their tail, then come back, they won't expect me to come back to the same location. I never have before.

By the time I was two trees away, I heard the guy come to my room. I paused and listened carefully. If he did a tracking spell, I was doomed, if he followed his 'gut instinct', he should assume I left out the window then dashed to the front of the property. A muffled curse, then my window closed. I heard him retreating down the stairs, and a few minutes later, if I strained my eyes, I could see him walking out the front door. All of a sudden he stopped walking. I tensed trying to blend into the tree. He turned around and looked straight at me. Our eyes met for a split second before I made a mad attempt to escape. I climbed towards the top of my tree, then jumped. Again and again I did this until I was sure I lost him, then I started to climb down. I made a full 360 degree turn, and upon not seeing anybody I had a mini celebration. Mistake number one.

**Watch ou–**

Something heavy, and sharp, smashed into the back of my skull, making me stagger and stars to burst behind my eyes. I spun around, grabbed the hand that attacked me, and gave it a sharp turn. He howled his pain (not literally) as the feeble bone snapped. Mistake number two.

**Good. Now run!**

I started to comply and went to turn when he kicked my legs out. He may have been human, but he was a grown man that was taller than me. I collapsed, and he picked me up, with his good hand, by the back of my collar, cutting off my air supply. Subconsciously, my fingers curled into a claw shape, I took a swipe. He yelped and dropped me while stumbling backward holding his face. I could smell blood.

"You're gonna pay for that, little girl." His voice was gruff.

"I think not." That was my third mistake.

He charged. I ducked one fist only to get suckered in the stomach. Pushing through the pain, I kicked and nailed him in his thigh, which caused him to dip in height before surging back up. His fist came around and struck me in my jaw, making my head snap to the side. My lip was split, the bastard.

Then he grabbed my wrist, swung me around, and pinned my other arm back.

I spat at the ground and said, "Ass hat."

He just chuckled and pushed me forward. I really don't like this 'Kit' guy.


	4. Treatment

**I don't own DP.**

**My story, my way. I have an idea, and characters are obviously OOC. EX: Chloe.**

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**Derek's P.O.V.**

I glanced up as Simon, my step-brother, sat down in front of me, then returned to my math homework.

"Dude."

I sighed, set my homework aside, and gave him my attention.

"I'm worried about Chloe."

I just raised my eyebrow at him, silently telling him to explain why he cared about a girl he only saw. I mean, it's not unusual that a rogue would 'disappear' after encountering an alpha of a pack.

"Well, I know that you think she just moved out of her house, but I asked the secretary– cause, you know, connections– and she said that she wasn't unregistered from school. She just...didn't show up."

Now this did catch my attention.

"Fine. I'll do some looking around." After I said that, he let out huge sigh of relief, like it was a three ton weight off his shoulders. It's insane that he could have a crush on this girl, I mean she's...awful. She's tiny, blond hair, fairly pale, and those big blue eyes...

**You like her.**

_**Um. No. But I'll still Google her.**_

I pulled out my smart phone and typed rapidly.

**×~×~The Challenge~×~×**

I rested my head on the steering wheel before I walked to the front door. This was tiresome, coming all the way to the edge of town for one girl. Though, I had to give her some respect, she had a nice chunk of land with a forest behind the house. In fact, I was almost envious.

Carefully, I straightened up in the car.

**Getta move on!**

I sighed, again, and made my way to the door. I raised my hand to knock when the door swung open. I was shocked to say in the least. Chloe was a total mess.

Her previously flawless skin was marred by a smattering of blue/black bruises from her jaw to her neck, her crystalline eyes were underlined heavily from sleep deprived crescents, and her lip was split.

A protective surge from the wolf almost made my knees buckle, but I caught him and reigned him back in.

"What do you want?" Her words were thick, but enunciated carefully, like she knew no normal person would be able to understand her words.

"Simon wanted me to come check on you."

Her brows furrowed in a way that would've been cute, but because of her injuries it just looked painful.

"Eh. What the hell, come on in. I just got back."

Now it was my turn for confusion. "From where?"

She just waved off my question and told me to sit on the couch, I complied. She walked to the kitchen with a slight limp, and her hand resting lightly on her ribs. It made me mad that she was so flippant about her obviously painful injuries. She came back in carrying a bucket and a first-aid kit. With practiced hands she pulled gauze, tape, and alcohol wipes.

"Avert your eyes please." I looked away, planning to glance back to check on her ribs she was holding earlier. I glanced back and almost wished I didn't. The skin above her ribs was mottled and slightly swollen, telling me quite clearly that they were broken. She took her roll of gauze, wrapped it once over the area, than reached for the tape and wrapped that around the angry bruise. I looked away again, so she wouldn't know I looked, and waited for her to officially say I could look towards her again.

"Your good now." Next, she snatched some scissors from the box and cut some strips of tape. I didn't even know what those were for until she grabbed her nose.

When she pushed it back in place, I'll admit I cringed. The sound of bone grinding against bone was sickening, yet all she did was blink away a stray tear. After she put the strips on she tended to her lip and asked me to fill the bucket with ice "a third of the way full."

I was still putting ice in it when she took over the job, muttering about how slow I was.

"Back to the living room." I sat back down in my spot, but I noticed Chloe's spot had her back to the wall, a clear view of the room, and she wasn't able to be seen from the window.

**Paranoid. **Said Sam in a sing-song voice.

Quickly she shoved her foot in the water, then sighed in relief, "Ask away."

"From where?" I repeated.

"A lab."

"Is my pack safe?"

"Should be, every time this happens I move, normally I don't return." She replies easily.

"Are you okay?"

Her response was to laugh.

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**Sorry for the short chapter, but I feel like it should end there. Tell me what I can do to write better!**


	5. Author Note

**Hey, sorry guys, but I read Percy Jackson, and now it's stuck in my head. So now, this story will be on haitus until further notice.**

**UNLESS! One of you lively people would like to adopt my story.**

**Again, my apologies.**

**—Snarky-Teen**


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